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I've come to Los Angeles to die.
15 years ago
General
This gallery is now closed. I will be deleting everything within the next week. Sorry.
Was it like this before? he asks.
Will it be like this forever?
I can't choke out a yes.
Long distance is too far away
to risk a suicide.
On his way to a date with some
interim girl, he gets a message on
his pager. She cancels his chance,
ending his night before it's begun.
He calls me from a payphone,
halfway across the world, and says
I'm all messed up with no place to
go.
(The lions pick their teeth
clean with your bones.
Christian, your only crime
is that you fell in love with a lion.)
I hear the catch in his voice and
he breaks down, tearing apart like silk.
I just don't want to go home.
I just don't want to go home alone,
he whispers, as if the oxygen
costs too much. If only I
could reach across the country
to the dark parking lot
where's he's falling apart a piece
at a time.
(The lions smell your blood
and breathe in your dust.
If they destroy you, Christian
it's because they must.)
And the little god
with the broken head
and the broken heart
sighs and beats the time.
I have come to Los Angeles to die,
he moans.
I have come to Los Angeles to die.
Why?
You're a brilliant artist, you should stay!